


Red Nepenthe

by Feralmaeda



Series: Sanguine [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood Drinking, Hajime’s so fucking tired, Happy Birthday Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Nagito’s thirsty in more ways than one, True love is when you’re both dumbasses, Vampire Komaeda Nagito, please give him a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feralmaeda/pseuds/Feralmaeda
Summary: Nagito Komaeda is a disaster, but what else is new? ..Vampirism, I guess.In other words, Nagito forgot he was a vampire for a hot second, and now he’s pretty hungry. Being tied up in the old building, which still smells a little of blood, is not helping. It’s actually not his fault that he doesn’t have a food source at the moment, but that still doesn’t make things any better.I would also like to establish that this was meant to be one thousand words at most. I have no impulse control.Edit: I got bored and impulsive and made a discord server. You can join in and talk to/yell at me about stuff, I’m absolutely down for it!https://discord.gg/BS8WpMY





	Red Nepenthe

How long had he been here, Nagito wondered silently, arms tugging uselessly at the shackles around his wrists, and how long until it was too long?

Since arriving on Jabberwock Island, Nagito had realized something strange about himself, starting with his aversion to natural light. He’d always had a problem with it, he knew that much, as was proven by his pallor and ease of burning, but he hadn’t thought it was anything beyond a bit of albinism at first.

But that aversion coupled with unusually sharp, _partially-retractable_ canines and his apparent inability to eat most foods and be filled by them? That raised some flags.

It took him a little while, but he remembered that he was a vampire.

He wasn’t sure how he forgot something so important in the first place, but he supposed it was expected of someone like him.

He remembered the day before he received his letter from Hope’s Peak, pulled suddenly into an alley and attacked on his way from the library to the bus stop. He didn’t remember stumbling to the the bus stop or home, but he woke up in his bed, the letter clutched near desperately in his cold, spindly fingers.

Regardless, his vampirism was only one source of his current issue, the other being his own personality. He couldn’t blame Nidai and Souda for knocking him out and tying him up. Really, he deserved it!

But that had the added issue of being unable to hide himself away in a cool, dark nook with some water to hopefully drown his persistent thirst. He hadn’t had any blood in.. He didn’t know how long.

And now, he lay in a room smelling faintly of spilled blood, scent soaked into the ceiling and walls and floorboards. Especially the floorboards beneath the far table, where the blood itself was absorbed and began to constantly permeate the air.

Really, this was the worst place they could choose to leave him.. He could understand them wanting him to reflect on his actions, but he couldn’t even focus enough to do that. He was breathing hungrily through his mouth, able to feel a line of drool spilling from its corner, and it aggravated him that he couldn’t wipe it away.

To be fair, he was a lot more irritable like this, hungry and uncomfortable and more disgusting than usual from laying on the dirtied floor.

When the door clicked open, Nagito very nearly _snarled._

Mahiru entered, holding a tray tightly in front of her, and approached Nagito warily. He could just barely smell rice and cold glass and something sweet beneath the oppressive, tantalizing metallic haze in the air.

“Koizumi,” he welcomed airily, biting back the hiss that threatened to enter his voice, “I’m so touched that you’d go out of your way for an abomination like me.. You’re even an Ultimate in your empathy.”

Mahiru huffed, kneeling down in front of him to set the tray on the floor, and Nagito nearly started salivating more at the smell of warm flesh and the tempting blood beneath it. He curled his sharp nails into his palm to restrain himself.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Mahiru snipped, “I’m only bringing you this because it wouldn’t be good for you to starve to death.”

Oh, how ironic, Nagito thought with muddled amusement, even with the food that Mahiru brought him, he could still starve to death.

“Well, I’ll be leaving then,” she sighed, beginning to stand, but Nagito, his curiosity overtaking his common sense for a moment, stopped her.

“Wait, can you tell me about Monokuma’s new motive?”

By the end of their discussion, Mahiru looked rather terrified, and Nagito more twistedly sanguine than anything, and Nagito only recalled after she left that he let slip his preference for water over milk.

With Mahiru and the food gone again, the sweet-rust scent of blood on the air overwhelmed him once again, and he pressed his nails even tighter against his palms, careful not to break the skin and cause his control to slip further.

It seemed it had slipped far enough already though, because when the door opened again and the warm, alluring scent of a living human once again caught his attention, Nagito _lunged,_ and he distantly heard a material screech, an alarmed shout, and a tray clattering to the floor.

The ropes around his legs broke easily in his furious leap, but the cuffs and the chains held firm even as the table they held to skidded slightly against the floor. His own momentum recoiled, and the chains jerked him to a stop, but Nagito managed to stay on his feet, setting himself forward against the force on his arms. He hissed with blind fury towards whoever it was in the doorway that evaded him.

“K-Komaeda?!” Rang Hajime’s voice, full of fear and panicked confusion, “What’s wrong with you?”

Finally registering who had jumped back nearly five feet to save themself from becoming his victim, Nagito blinked blearily as the fuzzy cerise film over his vision receded, “..Hinata?”

Hajime was staring at him from where he stood askance, eyes wide and chest heaving from leftover adrenaline, “What the hell was that?”

Nagito stared at him quietly for a moment, the only sound he made the ragged panting through his mouth, the aroma of stale blood mixing with Hajime’s radiance something intoxicating on his tongue. He could only imagine what Hajime’s own smelled like, but he couldn’t dare imagine tasting it.

“..Sorry,” Nagito offered, backing up to give the chains some slack, “I don’t know what came over me, Hinata. Horrible, isn’t it? That I’m like this? How utterly revolting.”

“Like what?” Hajime demanded, his fear mostly having dissipated, “Komaeda, what’s wrong?”

Nagito chuckled breathlessly, a wide grin cracking his face like broken glass, and Hajime flinched back once again, this time from the sight of gleaming, carnivorous teeth.

Before Hajime could say anything, Nagito sighed is a way that sounded almost wistful, “What _isn’t_ wrong, Hinata? I think that’s the most difficult, most accurate question!”

Suddenly, his sick grin vanished, and Nagito looked deadly serious, verdigris eyes cold and sharp as his tone, “I think you should leave here, Hinata. Lock the doors behind you. Don’t come back for me. I would be better off starving to death. It’s a hopeless ending, but a better one than someone like me extinguishing all of you..”

“Extinguishing..?” Hajime echoed despite the leaden pit in his stomach, sounding rather alarmed, “Do you mean _killing?_ Seriously, Komaeda, what happened to you?”

Nagito didn’t answer this time, instead running his tongue over his bottom lip in a vain attempt to wipe the excess saliva, only succeeding in spreading it.

Hajime simply watched him for a moment. His hazel eyes traced over Nagito’s body, his mouth, his eyes, the chains holding him back and the strips of broken rope on the floor around his feet.

He swallowed nervously, and stepped towards Nagito enough to take hold of the doors, “I’ll be back later, I’m going to get Tsumiki. Maybe she can help you.”

Nagito swallowed as well, but not nervously. He was close enough to Hajime now to pick out the particulars of his scent, seemingly magnified by his hunger. Hajime smelled warm and sweet with the lightest suggestion of salt, like summer sunlight filtered through a beach house window, and Nagito wanted to bask in it, breathing deeply as if it would stain his forsaken lungs.

Hajime eyed him suspiciously again before finally closing the doors, the breeze he made carrying with it just a bit more of him, with Nagito took in hungrily.

How foolish of him, he berated himself soon after, snarling as he stalked towards the table the chains held him to, hiking up its cloth and clambering underneath. Curling in on himself, Nagito let out a shuddering breath, thankful that the floor-length sheet shut out most of the saturated air.

Stupid, stupid, he was so, horribly, _terribly stupid._ He shouldn’t’ve let himself do that, now it was just worse.. His stomach was roiling. Stabbing, desperate pains that elicited sharp whines and wouldn’t allow him to breathe. At least the shadows gave him some reprieve from the harsh fluorescents.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, fingers clutching feebly at each other in a vain attempt at comfort, before the familiar click of the door snapped him into the present.

“Komaeda?” Hajime called, stepping rather loudly into the room, “You better still be here.”

Nagito wanted to laugh. He couldn’t leave. Not like this.

“Over here, Hinata,” Nagito called quietly, bracing himself for Hajime’s presence.

Soles clicked against the floorboards as Hajime made his way over to the table, and Nagito saw pity in his eyes when he lifted the tablecloth, “Are you doing alright?”

Nagito, though hit once again with that terribly delicious fragrance, managed to laugh then, even as the pain tried to stop him, “I would usually try to say I’m fine right about now, Hinata, but I think it’s pretty obvious..”

Hajime sighed, “Think you can get out from under there? I brought Tsumiki to see if we can do anything to help you out with.. Whatever it is that’s going on with you.”

With a bit of struggling, Nagito managed to emerge from his hideaway, flinching at the unforgiving lights as he shakily stood with a low, unappreciative hiss.

Once his stubborn eyes adjusted, it took all of Nagito’s will not to rush Hajime. He was standing so close, Nagito could easily feel the heat radiating from him, and, again, he smelled divine.

Nagito swallowed and distracted himself by looking towards the still open door, where Mikan hovered nervously. Hajime then beckoned her over, and she approached, looking as unsteady and stressed as Nagito felt.

“U-um,” she stuttered, watery eyes giving Nagito a quick, anxious onceover, “Wh-what are your s-s-symptoms?”

“No need, I already know about what this problem is,” Nagito replied as though it wasn’t anything special. Hajime looked mildly betrayed and irritated by his earlier avoidance.

“It’s not something that can be helped with the resources here,” Nagito continued, “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if there was no cure for the root issue at all! It really is just my luck..”

“Cure?” Hajime was quick to pick out, reminding Nagito distantly of the previous Class Trial, “Is this some kind of serious disease?”

Nagito laughed under his breath, looking down to Hajime with something like dark amusement, “Well, I think some people could call it that, but it’s not contagious unless I want it to be, so don’t worry!”

“Wh-what disease do you have, K-Komaeda?” Tsumiki asked, before leaping back a couple feet, “I-if you don’t m-mind me asking, that is! I’m s-sorry, I must’ve offended you, p-please forgive me!”

With his usual airy smile, Nagito answered, “No, truly, it’s alright, Tsumiki! It’s your talent, after all, you need to know that sort of thing.. I’m pretty sure the term you’d use for my condition is, well, vampirism.”

It was quiet, before Hajime shot Nagito a tired, sceptical look, “..Really? Vampirism? You’re a goddamn vampire, Komaeda? You expect us to believe that?”

“I do, actually,” Nagito affirmed, grinning wide again. This time, those vicious teeth extended slightly downwards, enough to be clearly noticeable. There was a barely audible crack as they locked into place, and that sealed it.

“Woah, holy _shit,”_ Hajime yelped, jumping back a little ways, while Tsumiki cried out and stumbled backwards to the floor.

Nagito wanted to laugh, so that was what he did.

It was an ugly thing, with too little air and too many sharp edges, sounding something like shattering and loneliness. It didn’t last long, however, when the hunger pains he’d been ignoring hit him hard, ending his manic fit with a punched-out whimper as he dropped heavily to his knees.

To Nagito’s surprise, Hajime was there in a second, kneeling down to look him in the eyes, “You’re a real mess, you know that? So, you’re a vampire, sure, alright, I guess that’s actually something that exists, but what’s the other problem?”

“D’spair,” Nagito mumbled distantly, focusing as best he could on anything except Hajime.

“No, you dumb fuck,” Hajime hissed, “I mean why are you apparently in pain and going feral?”

Nagito spat out another laugh, high and deranged, before letting out an agonized wheeze at the twisting in his gut. It took him a minute, but he managed to organize his thoughts well enough to speak.

“Thirsty,” he murmured, taking a deep breath and licking his lips, “Or maybe hungry, not sure which word to use.. Probably hungry, I’m definitely not dehydrated, so I guess that makes it hunger..”

Hajime stared in silence, before what Nagito said seemed to truly register, and he clicked his tongue with something like frustration. “Tsumiki?” Hajime called, looking over his shoulder, “You’re the Ultimate Nurse, so, by any chance, have you come across blood stored anywhere for some reason?”

Tsumiki, who had managed to right herself but still seemed uneasy, shook her head mutely.

“Damn,” Hajime muttered, looking back to Nagito with absolute weariness, “Looks like we’ll have to find a different way to deal with this then, because we can’t leave you like this or let you starve to death, if you're even able to die. You’re creepy, yeah, and you’ve gone up from “potentially dangerous” to “potentially lethal,” but you still don’t deserve either of those things.”

Nagito gazed at him as one would their savior, the one who hung their moon and stars and breathed life into their lungs, his bleary, watering eyes wide and breath abated. “Hinata,” he breathed, leaning towards Hajime enough to cause Hajime to lean back, “You.. You’re so full of hope! To treat scum like me with such care, you truly are.. Such a good, hopeful person! Hinata, you have so much light in you, I can feel it, you’re radiant, it’s beautiful..”

Hajime furrowed his brow, looking a little uncomfortable and concerned, and lifted a hand to Nagito’s forehead to push him back. Nagito looked like he had just been personally blessed by some wondrous deity.

“Yeah, alright,” Hajime agreed without heart, obviously dismissing his words, “Anyways, we need to find a way to get you some blood before you either die here or break out and kill somebody. Any suggestions?”

Shaking his head, Nagito curled his nails sharply again into his palm. Restraining himself in front of Hajime was difficult at the very least..

“Alright, different question,” Hajime tried after a few moments of contemplative silence, “How much blood do you think you need? Any measurement come to mind?”

Nagito’s brow furrowed this time as he did his best to think, biting lightly at his lower lip, careful to avoid breaking skin, “Maybe about.. Ah, about ten ounces? That’s close to the volume of a soda can, and I can’t imagine needing much more..”

Hajime turned back to Mikan, who was still silently watching the both of them, eyes mostly fixed on Nagito. Well, that could be expected, since apparently he’s something that’s not supposed to exist.

“Tsumiki,” He asked loudly to garner her attention, “Can a person spare around ten ounces of blood?”

Mikan, startled, nodded fervently, “Wh-when donations are t-taken, th-the unit is about five-hundred milliliters, which is a-actually a bit more than ten ounces.. M-most people feel fine afterwards too, so i-it would be fine as long as the d-donor is healthy.. I-I’m sorry if that’s not h-helpful!”

Hajime was surprisingly patient with her, humming contemplatively along with her explanation, “You’re fine, Tsumiki, that’s really helpful. Do you think you’d be able to safely take enough blood from someone with the supplies here?”

She thought for a moment, and then slowly nodded, the action a little jerky with nerves, “I-I think so, yes. It wouldn’t be with p-professional equipment, but th-there are definitely things that could be u-used..”

“Great,” Hajime replied, moving back to stand up, “Can you go get the things for it and meet me just outside of this building?”

Once Mikan left, Nagito, who had been silently watching the exchange with wide eyes, looked up to Hajime, “Huh? Huh? You’re actually going to feed me? Where are you even going to find someone willing? Who would believe you?”

Hajime looked down at him and raised a brow, “I’m pretty sure that I’d believe me, thanks. And it’s the least I can do. When we first got to this island, you.. You really helped me, even if it was just a front. Count this as payback.”

Before Nagito could find the words to respond, to express his warring feelings refusal and gratitude, Hajime had left the room, shutting the doors behind him.

Nagito stared after him, now resigned to shock.

Hajime was going to feed him with _his own blood?_

Ah.. He truly was lucky.

What was probably a couple minutes after Nagito’s return to solitude, he crawled back under the table again, realising that he could hide away from the lights and the smell in the air that he had been forcibly ignoring.

It was quiet, around him and in him, until, again, he was thinking about it. Hajime’s blood..

Now, with what was essentially Hajime’s permission, he could allow himself to fantasize.

How would it taste, the life essence of hope on his tongue?

Warm, strong, sweet, and a little biting, maybe, like its host, Nagito considered, and then realized that his pathetic mind couldn’t even begin to fathom something as exquisite as Hajime, as wondrous as the taste of hope.

So again, he resigned himself, this time to waiting.

The silence stretched on, all-encompassing, containing only the occasional whine pulled out by the persistent, painful twist in his gut.

It was going to end soon, he chastised himself in his weakness, Hajime was going to help.

Oh, there he is again.. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime.. A pretty boy with hope and power aplenty, one who stooped willingly so low as to once have looked at someone like him and called them a friend, even if that illusion didn’t last.

Despite the broken trust between them, he’d again shown compassion for the lesser before him, and was going to save Nagito at the expense of his own blood.

Nagito almost missed the opening of the door again, having been so lost in his thoughts of Hajime that he almost forgot that the boy himself was coming back to see him.

“Komaeda, are you under the table again?” He asked loudly, and this time Nagito thought he heard exasperated amusement, “You’re like a kid with a pillow fort. Come out, I’ve got a cup of blood and I don’t want to hold it for longer than I have to.”

Managing to edge forward and out from his apparent fort, Nagito looked up to Hajime and saw him to be telling the truth. His tan hands were clasped secure around a translucent glass, likely to try and obscure the contents as much as he could, and he could see bandages wrapped partially around his left arm, obviously from where the blood was drawn.

Nagito could smell it easily, much more vibrant than the old blood in the air, and he could feel himself salivating even more.

He must’ve had a weird look on his face, because Hajime’s lips tugged into an amused smile for a second, “Funny, I know you’re a real vampire and could and would probably kill me with your bare hands, but you aren’t threatening at all like this.”

Biting his lip lightly in a pout and in an attempt to restrain himself before he said something especially embarrassing, Nagito’s stoppered voice instead rumbled low and wordless in his throat.

“Was that a growl?” Hajime asked, raising a brow, “You’re.. Really weird. Seriously though, come get your.. Food? Drink? Just come get it.”

Nagito took a deep breath to calm himself and managed to get to his feet, consciously pacing himself as he moved towards Hajime, so as to not lunge at him again.

Once he was standing what he deemed an appropriate distance from Hajime, close enough to seem attentive but not close enough to lose his semblance control, he gave him a questioning look, “So is there a straw or something, Hinata?”

Hajime abruptly remembered that Nagito’s hands were chained behind his back. “Ugh,” he grumbled, “I forgot about that. Damn it.. Just.. Alright, sit down, this is gonna be awkward, so don’t make it worse.”

Nagito dropped to his knees voluntarily this time, looking up at Hajime expectantly before the brunet stepped closer and did the same, but much more carefully.

“You’ve got pretty much no shame, huh?” Hajime murmured, shifting just a little closer so that he was within arm’s reach, “Alright, here, tip your head back a little.”

Hajime reached out with the cup, pressing its rim to Nagito’s waiting lips and tilting it slowly. Even before the fluid touched his tongue, Nagito was intoxicated by the smell alone. Sunshine through stained glass, he distantly thought, before ambrosia wet his mouth and he drank hungrily.

He knew he probably looked disgusting, drinking Hajime’s blood so desperately from Hajime’s own hands, breathing loudly through his nose and simpering with each swallow like some sort of animal. Hajime was probably absolutely revolted.

By the time the cup was empty, which didn’t take long at all, Nagito was panting, licking at his lips to catch any drops that may have strayed, glancing at the reddish stained cup or the floor or anywhere but Hajime.

“Feeling better?” Hajime asked quietly, sounding an odd mixture of amused and disturbed, “That’s definitely the most I’ve seen you drink— or eat, I guess— since we showed up here. Have you not had anything until now?”

Nagito, having regained his breath and what he liked to believe was some composure, nodded in affirmation, “This is the first I’ve had in a while, I don’t know exactly how long..”

Hajime shook his head, “You’re pretty horrible at taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Well, I don’t exactly do anything right,” Nagito reasoned with a shrug, already feeling much more like himself, “But there definitely are some things I do better or worse than others.”

“Besides that,” Hajime began, clumsily redirecting the conversation, “When do you think you’ll need more? And just so you know, we’re probably going to have to tell everyone what you are. I’ve also got some more questions for you about the whole.. Being a vampire thing.”

Nagito nodded in understanding, shifting to sit more comfortably, though it didn’t help much, “Probably in about four or five days. I can usually go for longer without it, but this environment isn’t exactly ideal for someone like me. As for telling everyone, I understand! You all don’t trust me, and, being as I am, I’m only a threat. Ask away about the “being a vampire thing,” by the way. I’m curious to know what you’re curious about!”

Hajime seemed a little exasperated with him already, but he pushed that aside and moved closer, “Well, in that case, I’ll ask Tsumiki if I’ll be able to give more by then. The vampire thing though.. Were you just always like this?”

“Was I always a parasite?” Nagito reworded aloud, “I would say yes, but only the blood-sucking kind in probably more recent events.”

The brunet huffed a little at the parasite comment, though he did look a bit empathetic about the rest, “So how did the changing thing work?”

Nagito smiled, giving Hajime a sly look that roused some concern, “Well, would you like to find out?”

Hajime huffed at him again, reaching over to jab him accusingly in the shoulder, “No the fuck I don’t, Komaeda.”

The vampire simply laughed, though it wasn’t the same one that Hajime heard earlier. This one was lighter, something behind it genuinely good, born of pure amusement.

“That’s fine,” Nagito shrugged, the smile on his face widening so that his still-lowered fangs threatened to peek over his bottom lip, “I don’t actually know how it happened anyways. I was pulled into an alley, blacked out, and then I woke up at home, as a fledgling vampire, with a letter from Hope’s Peak Academy.”

Hajime rolled his eyes, jabbing at Nagito again, “You’re so fucking weird. But.. That really sucks. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Nagito grinned wide then, and Hajime realized what he’d said. “Oh, no,” he said loudly, interrupting Nagito before he could speak, “No pun intended, don’t even start, I will _absolutely_ leave you chained up here for another day, don’t test me.”

Laughing now, Nagito looked up at Hajime from where he had slightly hunched over in his mirth and Hajime glanced away, a light pout on his lips and a little red beneath his freckled cheeks.

“You’re ridiculous,” Hajime grumbled, but he didn’t look too upset about it.

Nagito just smiled at him, fangs finally retracted, “I think I have to agree, Hinata.”

Abruptly, Nagito leaned forward, resting his forehead on Hajime’s chest, just below his collarbone, and Hajime froze.

“..Thank you, Hinata,” Nagito murmured, quiet and full of a feeling that Hajime was hesitant to name, “I don’t deserve a second of your attention. I’m so grateful to you for letting a worthless being like me witness you for even a moment. And now.. There’s a part of you in me, your hope in my worthless body, I—“

“Alright,” Hajime near shouted, hands flying up to Nagito’s shoulders to quickly, but carefully, push him back, “That’s— That’s enough, alright, woah.”

Nagito blinked up at him, seemingly ignorant of the implications of his words, and Hajime sighed at him, “Just.. You don’t have to be so thankful to me. Look, you may be a disaster, and, quite frankly, you kind of worry me, but I don’t hang out with you or do things for you out of obligation. I’m here because I want to be. I could’ve left right after I fed you and got the answers I wanted, but I didn't, so.. Remember that.”

And then Nagito was crying.

Hajime startled, hands moving up to cradle his face and wipe away his tears, “Oh, _shit,_ Komaeda, did I say something wrong? Are you okay?”

Nagito shook his head as well as he could in Hajime’s hands, wide eyes looking deep in Hajime’s own, “No, Hinata, I’m alright, it’s just.. You’re.. So _radiant._ The hope in you is so _bright.._ And for you to feel that way towards someone like _me.._ I really must be lucky.”

With relief and a hint of irritation, Hajime wiped the last of Nagito’s tears from his face and then his hands on his pants, “I still think the whole thing you have with hope is kind of creepy, and you kind of tried to kill somebody, and I’m not sure what you mean by feeling “that way,” but you definitely are lucky. I don’t think I’d put up with this from just anyone.”

The vampire beamed, despite Hajime’s admittance being more negative than positive, and Hajime soon stood up with a groan, “It’s late, I’m tired, and I want to sleep for a very long time, but I should probably get you out of here first. You’re feeling back to just your usual level of crazy, maybe even a bit less, right?”

Nagito hummed as he considered, like he was mentally taking stock, “If you’re referring to the trial and the plot, I think I’m considerably calmer now. You really are the Ultimate Serenity, aren’t you?”

Hajime flushed a light red and huffed at Nagito, even as he began to walk towards the doors, “Yeah, no, I don’t think that’s it. I’m going to go get the key from Souda and Nidai, do you want me to turn the lights off so you can stop hiding under the table?”

“That would be preferable,” Nagito nodded as Hajime left, and then he was alone in the dark.

Even as the imprint of Hajime’s light on him shone, a writhing, dark part of his mind was already calling out in warning about the horrible luck that was sure to ensue.

This was too good to not have repercussions, and his heart sank as he realized who was most likely to be affected by it.

 


End file.
